So you can imagine how a root canal would sit with me, huh? Never, ever had work (beyond cleaning) done on my teeth, and I thought I was home free, at my age. But no. Last September, I called my cards too quickly and learned what an endodontist is. The day of the surgery, I went for the full sedation package, just short of knocking me totally out and staying overnight in the hospital, but I was still a nervous wreck and hated every minute of the entire day.
And today, I had the privilege of getting a redo on my root canal from last fall. I won't
But guess what? I didn't freak out beforehand, like I did the first time, when I was shaking like a scared puppy, even though I was sedated enough that I couldn't move out of my chair, or remember my own name. I didn't get all chatty on the way there, like I do when I am insanely nervous about something. And, when I got home, I didn't get nauseous merely from the thought of what had just happened in my mouth.
Today, I easily conversed with My Endo (we're tight now), Dr. Susan, about why teens shouldn't have cell phones, right before she disappeared into my mouth and left - wait for this - stitches in my gums. I had taken a sedative (duh! I'm not stupid!) but wasn't all hooked up to an IV like last time, my will sitting on the table next to me, waiting for my wobbly, dying signature, just in case. And not once did I gag or shudder, before, during, or after the fact. I even looked at the stitches in the mirror when I got home. You have no idea how not me that is.
You know what I'm going to say, don't you?
Magic potion's working, methinks.